


Trenches

by Wasthatapun



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 12:31:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wasthatapun/pseuds/Wasthatapun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Vietnam war is going strong and The Jon is just so tired of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trenches

The Jon tried his hardest to muffle the whine that escaped him as his helmet yet again fell into his eyes, and stayed there blinding him. He hated Vietnam, He hated the heat, he hated how wet the air was, he hated the sound of the falling bombs and the bullets. But most of all, he decided as he made a futile attempt to shove the ever-so-slightly too-big helmet back up, He hated the so called ‘upgrades’ the military had given him. His hands had been replaced by metal pincher claws, like some kind of robotic lobster. Supposedly meant to aid in their primary purpose of search and rescue with the ability to tear through thick metal like paper to free soldiers trapped in overturned trucks or downed helicopters but The Jon couldn’t get over the fact that he’d lost the use of his hands. He could no longer give first aid, couldn’t change out of his own uniform, couldn’t hold a gun (not that that upset him too much), couldn’t move his stupid helmet out of his stupid eyes.

He huffed, feeling the steam leave his vents and mingle with the hot wet air.

Suddenly his helmet was gently lifted up and settled it back in his proper place. The Spine smiled gently at his younger brother and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You doin okay there The Jon?”

The Jon tried his hardest to fake a smile as he nodded but it was a poor attempt and it was pretty obvious he wasn’t.

The Spine slumped down against the mud wall of the trench beside the golden bot and pulled the canteen of water from his belt, taking a long drink before leaning over to help The Jon take one as well. 

Offering “This’ll all be over soon, then we can go home and we’ll never have to go through this again.” in his most comforting and reassuring voice.

The Jon was capable of managing his own water but it was a difficult task and took longer than he’d like so he accepted it with a soft thanks. 

“You keep saying that Spine.” The Jon’s voice was small and tired “you said that last week and the month before that and you said it back in World War Two and I don’t think we’re ever gonna be done.”

The Spine was the only one of them who’s upgrades had left both his hands intact and fully functioning and he rubbed the back of his head as he mulled over The Jon’s words.

In the silence, broken only by distant booms and pings of ricochets, oil started to edge at The Jon’s eyes. He was very very tired.

“I miss home.” he whispered, voice wavering. “I miss Norman and Wanda and Peter V and -” His voice hitches and he curls in on himself, wrapping his ill formed ‘hands’ around his knees and crying into his arms. “And I miss Pappy and I miss Hatchy and The Spine why do we keep having to DO this?!”

The Spine pulled The Jon to him, hugging him tightly and rubbing a calming circle on his back. 

“Because people would die.” He voice is quiet and solemn.

“They are anyway!” The Jon spat back. “Why do we have to be here to watch them all die?!”

It takes him a minute to find the words.

“Because so so many more would if we weren’t. James, Frank, Gerald, Emmett. They’re all alive because of us.”

“Emmett lost his leg and an eye.” The Jon grumbled.

“But he’s alive, he wouldn’t be if you hadn’t gotten him out of there before the gas tank blew. And now he’s being sent home with an honorable discharge and he’ll see his daughter take her first steps.”

He couldn’t argue with that. Even blown half to pieces the man had no problem going on and on about his little girl back home. It had been what The Jon had kept him focused on while The Spine had fixed what he could and Rabbit had laid down cover fire.

“That’s why we’re here. To save who we can. And eventually this war will end just like all the others and we’ll get to go home safe and sound. And we’ll see Wanda and Norman and Peter V and someone’s finally going to figure out how to fix Hatchworth and everything will be wonderful again.”

The Jon sniffled, struggling a moment to wipe his eyes with the back of his sleeve (which had to be folded up at his elbows to work around his clawed arms) before giving his first real, if weak, smile.

“Yeah. Yeah you’re right. Thanks Spine.”

“Don’t mention it.” He patted The Jon on the head, which sent the hemet right back into his eyes and sent both of them off laughing.

“We’re gonna be okay The Jon. I promise.”

-

They weren’t.


End file.
